


Wishing On You

by meirencollector



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Needs Help, Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pre-Relationship, Roommates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and they were ROOMMATES, well the nyc special was something alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26714146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meirencollector/pseuds/meirencollector
Summary: He’s losing it, at this point. This was definitely not how he imagined how things would be. Not when they’re being like this.Because they’re on the couch, she’s cuddling, his heart’s racing, and they arenotdating.But god, does he wish they were.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 33
Kudos: 356





	Wishing On You

He’s in a love-hate relationship.

It’s getting annoying at this point, really. One part of his brain is screaming, wanting to leave and give himself some leeway, but at the same time there’s no place he’d rather be and he would rather die than be taken away from it. _I paid for this couch, so I deserve to sit here as long as I want to,_ Adrien justifies, completely aware of the theatrics he’s trying to distract himself with.

Yeah, he’s in a love-hate relationship with a couch. 

It’s a mundane piece of furniture in the living room that’s seen many seasons, many nights, many _things._ If it could speak, it would tell you stories and secrets that would make Adrien either laugh, cry, or curl up in the corner and hide. And right now, he sure feels like he could do all three.

 _Well, at least we have a clear relationship,_ he sighs at his own expense.

He remembers when they first brought it in, so elegant and sleek, its leather smooth to the touch. He glances at it, the once bright tan color now a friendly soft beige, the kind a couple could wrap themselves in and be cosy for the night.

Adrien doesn’t really know where he’s going with this. Hasn’t really been sure for a few days now if he’s being honest, which he rarely is, or he’s too much in denial to be.

Marinette’s on his lap, head resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder, legs draped all over the length of the couch. Casually sitting without any care in the world, his roommate is just scrolling through her phone, giggling, liking photos, occasionally lifting the phone a little higher to show him what she’s found so amusing. Her free hand drifts carelessly, at some point brushing his chest just a _bit_ more often than he could actually handle. Adrien has to put a stop to it by holding her hand, and somehow, their fingers are now intertwined.

And so he’s faced with a dilemma with the couch, half a mind wanting to get off before he could lose it, and the other half with a death wish, choosing to revel in the moment instead.

Adrien turns his eyes back to watching the television — or at least he tries to, because all his mind could process right now is the question of what, exactly, he and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are, because sometimes the label _roommates-slash-best-friends-slash-superhero-partners_ doesn’t sound quite right, seemingly not enough. Not when they’re being like _this._

But here it stands, they’re on the couch, she’s cuddling him, his heart’s racing, and they are _not_ dating.

But god, does he wish they were.

“Mari,” he finally manages to breathe out, looking down on the raven-haired girl. She glances up with her bluebell eyes, and all he can do is blink back, rendered speechless at the sight.

Marinette chuckles. “You’re just staring,” she shakes her head, poking his cheek. He could feel his cheeks burn up at the contact. “What’s up?”

Adrien wonders why he couldn’t just ask her straight out what they were, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. His mind was all scrambled, no proper cohesive thought in the making. All he could think about was that if they were dating, they could do all those things sweet couples do, like go on dates, have romantic walks by the Seine, maybe even leave their own love locks by the bridge, then drop by a restaurant to _eat dinner—_

“Eat dinner?” Marinette echoes, sounding puzzled.

He wants to slap himself. Of all the things he was thinking of, _that’s_ what he blurts out.

“Y-yeah.” Adrien nods slowly. “I mean, you know eat dinner, have some food.” His hand lets go of hers, coming up to brush his hair, feeling exasperated. “What I’m saying is, would you like to go eat dinner sometime?”

Marinette stares at her hand, then looks back at him, frowning. “But we have dinner all the time. Together.” she replies, head tilting to the side. “Like, almost every night.”

Adrien curses to himself. _Great, now she’s all confused,_ he thinks, _and I probably look pretty stupid right now._

He tries to wave his thoughts away. “ _Ri_ ght. We do eat dinner together. Ha-ha.” he rambles on, avoiding her stare. “Silly me. What difference does another dinner together make?” 

“You silly kitty,” Marinette chuckles fondly, ruffling his hair. Adrien’s heart beats a little quicker, until he hears a faint beep.

“Huh.” Marinette brings up her phone, tapping on the screen. “Alya just texted asking if we wanted to go get dinner or something in a bit with her and Nino.” She meets his eyes. “What do we say?”

 _I’d say thank you for rescuing me from my failure of an attempt._ He shrugs. “Sounds good to me, haven’t seen them for a while.” Then a thought comes to mind. “Wait a minute, how come I didn’t get a message?” Adrien pouts, staring down at his own phone, the screen pitifully black.

“Probably because we’re always together anyway so there’s no point texting us separately,” Marinette simply states, as if this was a universally known fact, which it actually was, now that he thinks about it.

“That does make sense,” Adrien mumbles, swallowing thickly. It made zero sense. People are acting like they’re a package deal, while he’s out here losing his mind just trying to take themselves off the market. Suddenly a disturbing thought comes in. _Oh no, what if she's already dating someone else?_ He pales at the thought. _I thought she liked me. Or did I just imagine the entire thing? I hate my brain sometimes._

Adrien feels like he’s entering a breakdown, and Marinette just watches him change into progressively weirder expressions by the minute. Soon after that, she lets out a snort and gets up, and Adrien tries to ignore that he already misses the warmth.

“Well, I’m going to get ready,” she says, heading towards her room, taking off the ties of her pigtails, raven hair gracefully falling loose across her back. He notices the sleeves of her oversized hoodie — _his_ oversized hoodie, now that he squints closer — are falling over her hands and making them disappear, turning them into cute sweater paws. 

He feels like crying.

“Yeah, okay.” Adrien replies weakly, watching her walk away from his sight.

He presses his palms to his cheeks, waking himself up. He needs to get back to his senses. There’s no way he’s letting this slip away from him. “Get it together for once, Adrien, stop being such an idiot.”

“I can hear you talking to yourself!” Marinette calls out, humor evident in her voice. “I have no idea what you’re saying, but go and get dressed!”

Adrien whines, and shoves his face into the sofa seat, infuriated with his current predicament. He doesn’t want to move anymore, she can just go back here and he’ll let her sit in his lap forever.

“Now, Chat!”

He sighs, getting up from his seat. She always uses that tone to order him around. And he always goes along with it. _Because who was he to say no?_ Adrien simply shakes his head. He really is a lost case when it comes to her. “As you wish, m’lady,” he calls back, chuckling as he heads to his own room, now looking forward to seeing his friends. _Maybe seeing them will take my mind off things,_ he assures himself.

“So, dude,” Nino begins, mouth forming a sly grin. “When are you going to ask Marinette out?” 

Adrien chokes on the water he’s been drinking, as his best friend blurts out the one thing he’s been putting off his mind for the entire night.

“What are you talking about?” Adrien rasps, coughing out the water that got in the wrong way through.

“Don’t play dumb, Agreste,” Alya quips, rolling her eyes as she takes a sip of her drink. “You know exactly what he’s talking about.”

“I don’t,” the blond counters stubbornly, huffing as he turns his head the other way.

“We all know you’re in love with Marinette,” Alya states exasperatedly. “She told me about what happened last week.”

Adrien’s cheeks flare at the memory, but soon his eyes narrow at the newfound information. “What exactly did she say?”

“That she confessed that she had a crush on you back then,” she recounts, “and you responded by kissing her on the cheek.”

Well, that was a mild way to describe what happened that night. 

“Anything else she said before that? Or after?” Adrien pries further, wondering just how much Marinette told her. 

Alya raises an eyebrow. “Why? Have you forgotten what happened that fast?” the journalist shakes her head, chuckling. “Marinette didn’t say much, but I’m sure she knows you feel something for her.”

Actually, Adrien hasn’t forgotten anything that happened last week. When you find out that the superhero partner you’ve been in love with for years is also your roommate and best friend that you’ve completely fallen for, and then the two of you try to talk it out and it spirals into something… _else_ , well, it really doesn’t leave your head anytime soon. In Adrien’s case, it’s been all he can think about ever since.

“She knows, but does she still feel the same for me?” Adrien sighs dejectedly. “I doubt it.”

“You’re kind of an idiot if you actually believe that, man.” Nino laughs in disbelief. “Marinette’s head-over-heels for you, just as you are for her. She’s just waiting for you to make a move.”

“Well, why doesn’t she make a move instead?” Adrien challenges, “She could ask me, and I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

“She’d say yes to you in a heartbeat too. Why don’t _you_ do it?” Alya spits back. “After all, she did confess first.”

Adrien pauses, not knowing what to say against that, and just starts to play with a stray thread on his cloth napkin to avoid the couple's scrutinizing looks. 

“Don’t overthink it,” Nino finally reaches for his shoulder, giving it a comforting pat. “Follow your heart. You dudes are made for each other.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Marinette asks as she slides back into her seat. 

Adrien lets the others make something up while he thinks about their conversation. People were giving side commentary as if they could already see how their relationship would play out, while Adrien himself felt that he and Marinette have been walking blind all this time.

 _So we're made for each other, huh._ He's heard that one before. Too many times, in fact, especially coming from a particular pair across the Atlantic. He looks back at her, who's been busy stuffing the food into her mouth, talking animatedly at their friends while occasionally looking his way to give him a contented smile.

Marinette seems happy, too, not just content. It's a subtle difference Adrien has picked up on over their years together — as friends, of course — with the way she shows her excitement. She's touchier now, definitely, brushing her foot over his ever so often, and Adrien admits he's becoming way too comfortable with it. She's bouncing side by side in her seat, nose scrunched up as she reads through the dessert menu, tone of voice a little higher, a little fast-paced, all cues that Marinette is in an ideal mood to potentially say yes to going out with him.

Yet still, Adrien's lips are zipped shut, not even daring to make a move, to speak and give his thoughts away. _Maybe not today,_ he sighs internally.

In truth, there's no actual logical explanation as to why he can't bring himself to do something that seems so natural for him to do, something that he so badly wants to do. He could try playing the blame game, pointing fingers at being a perfectionist when it comes to her, but that's not it, really, but rather the doubt that's eating him up from the inside that leaves him all choked up.

Adrien's already accepted his fate for the night, and could now imagine a certain duo's laughter over the phone the next evening when he asks for some advice.

“Damn, you’re pathetic,” Jess guffaws, all too amused at Adrien's misfortune. "Aeon, get over here, you're going to love this."

Aeon pops into the frame soon after, giving a knowing smile and a few tuts that’re only slightly less condescending than the other. "Let me guess," she pauses for effect. "He didn't ask her out. Again."

Jess' roaring laughter blares into the living room.

Adrien groans, already making a note in his head to donate his next paycheck to an anti-bullying campaign. "It's harder than you think!"

"Eh. You'd think you would know how to act by now after all these years of dancing around each other," Jess snickers, her words almost making him scream in annoyance, but Marinette's already asleep and he really doesn't want to wake her up.

"You two should really look at yourselves in the mirror, to see the circus the both of you have been pulling off. I remember when their class came here, you guys looked like idiots with the sliding doors, it was so dumb—"

"That time when we visited them last year was funnier based on my memory. Statistically speaking, it wasn't even possible, but Adrien's heart rate increased to 180 beats per minute when Marinette had that phase where all she wore was short skirts, I thought he was getting a heart attack every time—"

“—I wasn’t getting—”

"Well, Marinette acted in a similar way, she just became better hiding it through the years," Jess recalls. “I’d catch her staring at Adrien sometimes, but she'd brush it off really quickly, I mean she was taken more often than not, so he's—”

“I'm literally right here—”

“—oh you're definitely right there, that was so hilarious, the look on Adrien's face whenever Marinette talked about—”

“Okay!” Adrien interrupts, finally ending the embarrassing discourse. “I get it, I’m an idiot, so is Marinette, I guess, all of us are idiots."

“Well, I can't be an idiot." Aeon points out, only to be smacked on the arm by Jess. “What? I'm an android. I'm more logical and calculating than anyone else in this conversation."

"You can't even read signals," Jess argues, "Someone could be flirting with you to your face and you'd still think they were being nice. You're as much of an idiot as this croissant over here, and that's telling."

“I think you're both idiots,” Adrien mutters.

“How dare you call me an idiot, Adrien?" Aeon gasps. "I've rooted for you guys to end up together ever since the day we first met.”

"Yeah, and how did that turn out?" Jess reminds her. "I'm all for freedom of speech, you know, but someone should be paying me for putting up with this stupid charade of theirs all these years, yet what can I say, I’m naturally charitable—”

“You’re acting like you're not invested in their relationship," Aeon huffs, pointing an accusatory finger at her, "When you've already bought them their wedding present!"

He's never seen Jessica Keynes flush such an impressively deep shade of red.

"W-well, you've also bought a present for them!" she reasons, voice climbing higher with every word. "We got them on the same day!"

“Guys!” Adrien breaks in again, letting out a cough. _Wedding presents?_ Well, he’d be lying if the thought hasn't crossed his mind, but if he daydreams about it any further, he feels as if his brain would implode. 

"Let's get back to the main issue," Adrien pleads. "I know we've established our idiocy here and I've discovered you two have questionable spending choices, but let's slow down a little. We're not even a _thing_ yet. So the question I've been asking is, how do I make us a _thing?"_

"Well, hm," Jess scratches her chin, feigning deep thought. "I don't know, maybe try to actually _speak_ the words out? Just say what your heart tells you? Go all, “Hey, Mari, we live together, eat together, sleep together-

“Hey, we never-”

Aeon interrupts, sending him an apologetic smile. “We saw you guys once on the bed asleep, you were both so tired and we didn’t want to bother waking you up.”

Adrien could only sigh, feeling his cheeks helplessly heat up.

“Yeah, she’s right. Now shut up, Agreste. I haven’t finished my lines yet.” She clears her throat. “Hey, Mari, we live together, eat together, sleep together, we’re practically inseparable at this point that its kind of stupid that we’re not dating even after years and years of knowing each other.” Adrien rolls his eyes, and she continues, “And our cool friend Jess kinda spent huge on a wedding present, so how about we get married?”

Adrien's pretty sure he just popped a vein. “Thanks a lot, Jess. You haven’t helped this cause at all, and we’re not getting married anytime soon, because we aren’t even dating yet!”

He looks at the other. “Aeon, help me out here.”

Aeon merely nods in agreement. “When you look at it, Jess is right. It’s cost-efficient for you guys to just proceed to marriage instead.” She shrugs. “In my calculations, nothing wrong will happen with skipping a step, you guys are endgame anyway.”

He wants to bang his head on a wall. How is it that everyone’s so sure, but not he himself?

“Hey,” a sleepy voice breaks through the room. Adrien’s head quickly turns to find a yawning Marinette rubbing her eyes, approaching him with languid steps. “Who’re you talking to?”

Adrien quickly ends the call before the two could say anything he'd regret.

"It's just Jess and Aeon." he replies, as he scoots over to make room for her on the couch, arms wide open, so she could nestle into his side. "Sorry, did we wake you up?"

“It’s fine,” Marinette rests her head on his shoulder, sleepily nuzzling closer to his neck. “What were you calling them for?”

"Um," Adrien knows better than to lie to Marinette, nothing really stays hidden between them at this point. So he goes for a somewhat vague and partially true explanation, “Partners counseling?”

"Fine, I'll take it. I heard they've been doing well back there. Villains don't stand a chance." Marinette laughs as her chuckles slowly turn into yawns. "I'm going to head back, okay? Don't stay up too late.”

She tries to move up, but Adrien's arms don't seem to let go. "Hm?"

"How about you stay here for a while?" he asks, wanting to indulge himself for a little longer. "This couch isn't too bad."

"Sure, why not," Marinette hums in response, yielding to his embrace. "But I'm telling you now, I'm really sleepy and I've lost the strength to stand up, so it’s up to you to carry me back to my bed." Then she adds, “Don’t you dare drop me, kitty, please no idiotic shenanigans.”

“Come on, I thought at least you’d be on my side, m’lady,” Adrien groans, reaching over to dim the lamp, “the only thing Aeon and Jess can properly agree on is me being an idiot.”

“I mean, when you think about it, you’re not an idiot,” Marinette tries to comfort him, patting his chest. “Besides your stellar academic record, there was some genius at work in choosing this couch, like, wow, it’s still so nice and comfy after all these years.”

“Right? I was thinking about the same thing last night.”

He could feel her grin against his throat. “Great minds think alike.”

God, he wants to ask her now. The words are right at the tip of his tongue, he’s ready to jump into the unknown. But he notices Marinette’s heavy lidded eyes, on the brink of losing herself to sleep and he figures that it’s better to save it for a better moment. “Now look at us, and this room, who would've thought?”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought,” Marinette agrees, giggling a little. “Who would’ve thought this living room would have some actual furniture with a decent looking couch.” She lets out a long yawn. “When I first came here, I felt like leaving you already because there was no way I was going to live in a place where the only furniture was a piano stool and a rug, and the only cooking appliance was a microwave.”

Adrien chuckles at the memory, watching the moonlight shine into the room, just enough to navigate between the wooden legs of their piano stool, just enough to illuminate the faint patterns of their washed-up rug.

“Do you feel like leaving me now?” he asks in a whisper.

“No,” Marinette finally closes her eyes, shuffling closer to wrap her arms around Adrien’s waist and mumbles, “and at this point, I don’t think I ever will.”

It’s another evening, and he’s currently in the crowd of Marinette’s exhibit, one that she had been preparing for a while now. Every wall has her sketches framed, her dresses showcased — it's a beautiful sight, the designs that had emerged from her own mind. Even though she plays it off as some minor thing, a stroke of luck, perhaps, Adrien knows how excited she’s been at the prospect of taking a step closer to her dream.

He shares her joy, having been with her all throughout the way, watching her dedicate herself to her passion. It wasn’t so bad when she had a roommate with years of fashion experience behind him, ever willing to put up with her until the late hours of the night, even dropping by to make her eat her meals in between — and now he’s finally at its opening exhibit, all ready to finally ask her.

“I’m betting he’ll chicken out,” Alya whispers, loud enough for Adrien to hear.

“Sorry, babe, I’m not betting against my best friend.” Nino shakes his head, then pauses. “But I agree.”

“Thanks for the support, man. Always knew you had my back.” Adrien deadpans.

“Well, we can gauge the stakes right now,” Alya grins, sizing him up. “How are you feeling, Adrien? You think you’ll do it?”

“Frankly, no,” Adrien can already feel his muscles tense in nervousness, “and neither of you are helping at all.”

"Sorry, dude," Nino replies, having the audacity to look sheepish, "But I'm sure it'll go great, tonight or whenever you decide to do it. She'll say yes, and you'll eventually tie the knot and we'll have a big party."

"Makes me wonder, if he's already this dramatic in just asking her out, how much worse would it be when he tries to ask her to wear the ring?"

"Chill, babe," Nino croons, putting an arm over her shoulders. "What matters is we know they'll get there. I don't know when, or how, but they will."

Adrien adds another mental note to find out just how many of their friends have already built fantasies of their wedding day. This was getting way out of hand, really.

"You're only saying this because you want to eat their wedding cake," Alya snaps, "I've heard you moan about it in your sleep."

Her boyfriend just shrugs. "I don't deny it. The Dupain-Cheng's make a mean, delicious cake." Then he crosses his arms, thinking. "Now that we're talking about it, while I do dream of the wedding cake, I've also been having nightmares about it, thinking what if _Adrien_ made the cake."

Alya’s eyes widens in realization. “Wait, is that why you were muttering _‘burn my tongue, burn my tongue’_ that other night?”

Nino nods. “I’ve tasted one of his cookies back in middle school.” He winces. “Never again.”

“I got to taste them too,” Alya recounts, shivering. “Marinette told me it tasted okay, and that day I realized love was not only blind, it was also bland as hell.”

“It was pretty gross,” says Nino.

“Definitely gross,” Alya agrees. 

Adrien didn’t even bother with defending himself anymore, busy looking for the star of the event. The last thing he cares about right now is the annoying couple beside him. At this point, he feels like asking her just to shut them up once and for all. Of course, he’s not going to do that, but when he thinks about it, it _could_ work as a pretty good motivator.

He actually had a pretty good plan set up, but everything just flies out the window as he stares out into the room. It seems he completely underestimated the scale of the event and the number of people who were present in it. He, Nino, and Alya had to push their way through the crowds just to find Marinette. It’s noisy and uncomfortable, and Adrien believes that when he does ask her, it had better be in much more pleasant circumstances. It didn’t help either when he remembers that he's a celebrity of some sort in this field, strangers asking him why he’s here, and he answers he’s best friends with the designer and it usually ends with that, but then some would pry a little further and ask if she’s single, and Adrien had half the mind to glare at them back.

However, his mood improves in a split second as soon as their eyes meet, and she beams at the sight of him, taking his breath away. 

As Marinette runs up to him, his plans go further down the drain with every step she takes, and all he does instead is open his arms, admitting defeat that he’s going to fail to ask her once again.

“Adrien!” Marinette greets, letting him envelop her in a hug and spin her around, just enough to leave her breathless. "You came."

"Of course I did," he replies, looking puzzled, "I did tell you I was coming, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but didn't you have a big photoshoot for today?" she recalls, her hold loosening around him.

He pulls her back, shaking his head. "I still wouldn't miss this for anything else." 

Marinette giggles. "You wouldn't miss anything here, you've already seen them all back home when I first built them from scratch," she cocks her head to left, "There's an entire section of pieces that you've watched me cry over until I slept."

“That just makes it all the more worthwhile to see.” Adrien laughs, then holds her stare. "You did amazing here, Mari."

“Ahem,” Nino interrupts from the side, flashing Adrien a taunting grin. “Do you have _anything_ else to say or can we finally congratulate Marinette?”

Adrien glares at Nino, as Marinette slips past his arms to hug their friends one by one. When she embraces Nino, he gives a thumbs up to Adrien and mouths _'You can do it'_ behind her back. 

“Thanks for coming,” Marinette returns to Adrien’s side, unaware of the interaction. “It means a lot that you came.” Her face shows a hint of a frown. “Sorry I couldn’t be much of a host to you guys, I didn't expect there would be this many people."

“Don’t mind it, that means you’re doing great. And we’re all here to support you.” Alya smiles, then glances to the blond. “Especially Adrien here, he couldn't wait to come. Heard rumors from today that a certain top model might've set the record for the fastest photoshoot in history." The journalist giggles.

Adrien thinks that this couple is either the best or the worst wingmen in history. There is no in between.

“You could've come here on any other day,” Marinette scolds him, though the playful tone in her voice gives her away. "You have to get your priorities straight, Adrien. Always go for the important stuff."

"I do have my priorities straight," he shrugs, smiling. "And I know which is important."

Marinette blushes a bit, seemingly bashful as she mutters a word of thanks before noticing the rose in his hand. “That for me?”

He leans down to her ear. “ _Pawsibly_ , but it all depends if m'lady wants it.” Adrien earns the light smack on the arm Marinette gives him, either for his rather brilliant pun or slightly breaking into his _chatty_ alter ego.

“Of course I do. Thank you, kitty,” Marinette whispers back, taking the red rose just before she quickly presses her lips against his cheek.

“Why is it just one though,” Alya wonders out loud, “Wouldn’t it better if it was a bouquet?”

Marinette simply shakes her head, looking at him with a knowing grin. “It’s a thing we’ve been doing for a long time now, and I’ve probably received single roses of every color from him at this point.”

Alya raises an eyebrow at him. “Long time? Since when?”

“Whenever I'm _feline_ like it,” Adrien shrugs, slyly sending Marinette a wink.

"Okay, that's enough chit- _chat_ here," the designer coughs, looking flustered. Adrien knows that Marinette’s still trying to get used to seeing Chat’s demeanor on the civilian Adrien Agreste back home, and it seems she’s not entirely ready to see it on him in public. _But it’s worth it,_ he chides himself, because he got a pun out of her with it, which Adrien definitely sees as an absolute win.

"How about we get out and eat?” Marinette suggests, snapping him out of his thoughts. “There's a nice diner nearby. My treat.”

"As much as I would like to take you up on your offer, don't you have to stay here?" Alya chuckles. "Have you forgotten this is your exhibit?"

"Yeah," Marinette whines. "But I've been here the entire day, and I could really use some good food right now. I feel like celebrating. Plus, it's just across the street, I can just come back if anything comes up."

“What do you think, dude?” Nino asks, less to tease him, but to rather to get a sense of whether they’re welcome to join, in case Adrien still has another plan in store. Which he does, in fact. Realizing that the exhibit wouldn’t be the best place for a heartfelt gesture, he planned on asking her when they left, in whichever place she wanted to celebrate, or perhaps during the walk heading there.

But one look at her bluebell eyes and that plan vanishes into thin air, because Adrien knows that she wants to spend this particular evening with her friends to share her joy, and she deserves nothing less.

“Of course,” he concedes, and Marinette beams up at him in response, grasping his hand with hers, leading all of them out of the door.

It’s one of those nights that Marinette has to do a double take as she comes out of her room and takes another whiff, realizing that something is simmering on their kitchen stove — and it actually smells delicious.

“Did you… cook us dinner?” Marinette calls out as she approaches the stove, opening the lid of the pot. 

“Yeah.” Adrien gives a nonchalant reply from the living room, seemingly occupied with something else. He’s currently busy setting up the game consoles on the couch, eyes furrowed as he does last minute calibrations. That is, until Marinette suddenly rushes into the room and puts a hand over his forehead, as if she’s taking his temperature, looking a bit worried. 

“What are you doing, Mari?” he moves away his head from her hand, confused.

She tries to reach over his head again, which he quickly ducks under, earning himself a light chuckle.

“Adrien,” Marinette drawls slowly, “Are you okay?”

“What are you even talking about?” he laughs, eyes glued to the screen. “I’ve never been better.”

“You just cooked dinner… and I saw the cupboards,” she breathes out in disbelief. “You did the groceries a day early.” 

“If I knew you’d react like this, I should’ve done it sooner.” He grins, looking back at her. “I’m just making sure nothing’s going to bother you for tonight.”

“Tonight?” Marinette squeaks.

Adrien hands her the console. “Tonight’s game night.”

“It is?”

“Well, we’re a few days late from schedule, but that’s because you had your exhibit, so I figured we could do it tonight.” he shrugs. “And I feel like it’s been a while too, since the last time we played.”

Marinette’s hand suddenly goes up to her neck, as if pressing over a mark that isn’t there.

Adrien chuckles at her reaction, watching her take a seat beside him. “So,” he takes a deep breath, with a determined look on his face, a little bit different than the usual competitiveness, “For this game night, I was thinking of something different.”

Marinette raises an eyebrow. It’s a running tradition between them, that their game night had some special twist to it, a challenge of some sort. Usually it’s a dare either of the two has to do if they lose, sometimes favors or veto powers on chore allocation for the week. But now it’s different, since they’ve finally figured out why they always opted for favors and free time, because apparently they’ve been living double lives.

“No, _Chat,_ ” Marinette crosses her arms, frowning. “We’re not using our powers for our dares.”

He waves his hands indignantly, shaking his head. “No, no! Not _that_ kind of different.” She loosens back her arms. “But not a bad idea, m’lady. I’ll take note of that for future use.” he adds, flashing a cheshire grin.

Marinette rolls her eyes, “So what’s the twist this time?” she asks, waving the topic of using the Miraculous for their shenanigans away for another day.

“Best of three. If I lose, best of five, because I cooked us dinner. If you win, I’ll do whatever you want for a day.”

“And here I thought you were doing it from the kindness of your heart.” She huffs. “So, a day as in twenty-four hours as of…?”

“As of the end of the game,” Adrien clarifies. “Though you don’t have to worry too much about that, because I’ll be winning this one.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Marinette scoffs. “And if I lose?” she asks, before adding a quick, “Which isn’t happening, obviously.”

“Well,” Adrien gulps, “you have to say ‘yes’ to whatever I ask of you.”

“For the entire day?”

“No, just one question,” he dismisses quickly. “You in?”

“Adrien, I’m going to be honest here, this feels a bit ominous.” Marinette searches his eyes for some answers, “Like, I’m racking my brain out here, wondering what you’re up to. It can’t be anything normal.”

“Scared?” Adrien taunts, clicking his tongue. “Poor little bug worried the cat will crush her?”

Marinette’s self-preservation instincts immediately shut down, her competitive streak taking over. “No way. Get ready to lose, kitty.”

Although Marinette was feeling benevolent a while ago since Adrien took the extra effort in cooking and doing his chores, all she feels now is the strong urge to chuck the console right into his face to wipe off that cocky grin.

“You cheated on that last move,” she accuses, “NAD03‘s meters are absurd. Since when was it able to stop my block? I haven’t been able to find a damn way to punish its low kicks into tatsus for the last hour!” Marinette grips her console tighter. “Rigged, absolutely rigged.”

Adrien scoffs at her remark. “Maybe you should try reading the beginner manual again, so you wouldn’t be like this. Single hit tatsu is -17, multi-hit tatsu is -13, you’d get the punishing opportunity if d+3 isn’t a clean hit.”

“Single hit is now -17?” Marinette’s eyes narrow. “Since when was it like that?”

“Since the DLC came out, genius.” Adrien rolls his eyes.

Marinette exhales. “Oh god. I’ve been conned. We’ve been on DLC this whole time, and you didn’t tell me? This is literal sabotage.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? You bought this DLC. _Remember?_ ”

“No way.” she blinks. “I thought those were just for new character skins.”

“Way,” Adrien argues, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re just grasping at straws at this point. I’ve bested you 4 out of 5. Get over it.”

“You’re insufferable,” Marinette grumbles, pulling up the character stats. “We’re doing a rematch for Game 3 though, because you kept nudging my arm.”

“You’ve been elbowing my side since the first game,” Adrien reminds her, “I honestly think I broke a rib.”

She laughs bitterly. “You’ll live, I’ve thrown you off the Eiffel before, and yet you’re still here.”

“Well, I still won, and that’s what matters.” 

Marinette huffs. “No, you cheated. Lack of game transparency.” 

“That’s on you. For me, I did not cheat.”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“You’re acting like a child, Mari,” he jeers, going closer.

“Better a child than a cheater!” Marinette dissolves into laughter when Adrien starts to tickle her, falling back onto the sofa cushions while their consoles fall onto the carpet rug. 

Adrien slumps on top of her, out of breath. “You know I won fair and square,” he mumbles, “I don’t cheat, and I’m the only one who can beat you in Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

“I know,” she chuckles, as Adrien pulls her up to sit, setting them in a more comfortable position. “It’s just fun to see you riled up. You have to be on the receiving end sometimes, you know?”

“Fair enough.” he smiles, letting out a deep breath. “So, are you ready?” Adrien asks her.

“Oh, right.” Losing herself in the euphoria of trying to win over Adrien, Marinette actually forgot the initial premise of the entire game night. “Bring it on, then.”

"Yeah, okay," Adrien begins, pursing his lips like he does when he's troubled. "I know I said you had to say 'yes', but if you say otherwise, I wouldn't take it too personally." he assures before adding, "Or at least I think I won't."

Marinette knows something is out of place, and her brows furrow in concern as peers closer to look at Adrien's face. "If you don't want to ask now, it's fine—"

“Do you want to go out with me some time?” 

Adrien blurts out, and he sees Marinette's face turn into an unreadable expression, now he feels like his heart's about to give out.

Marinette slowly nods, "Sure, I guess-"

“I mean, like go out with me on a date. Like together on a dinner date. Romantically. Because I’m kind of in love with you. And want to do the date thing. Or whatever. Because I’m not sure if you still like me or not? I know we should’ve discussed this last time but there wasn’t a lot of sensible talking? Or even after that. Ha-ha. My fault. Ok, we can just pretend I never asked,” Adrien rambles on, his eyes looking anywhere but the girl settled by his lap, so he doesn’t see the smile growing on her lips. “This is so embarrassing. I’m fine being platonic best friends, really. Platonic. I can live with that. Maybe. Oh god, I sound like an idiot right now. I’m such an idiot-”

“Then it’s a good thing I like idiots,” Marinette interrupts, holding Adrien’s face in her hands to force him to look at her. Adrien stops talking, his eyes wide. “Love idiots,” she continues, her hands falling over his shoulders, pressing her forehead against his. “Love you.”

“Oh.”

 _“Oh,”_ Marinette mimics, giggling. “How did you even think I was going to say no? You seriously thought everything we’ve been doing since last week was some platonic gesture? In this room? On this couch?” She presses her lips to his cheek. “You’re such an idiot. But yes, I’ll go out on a date with you. Like together on a dinner date. Romantically. Because I’m kind of in love with you. And want to do the date thing. Or whatever.”

“Can you say it again,” Adrien murmurs, wonderstruck.

“Which one?”

“The you’re-in-love-with-me part.”

“Sure,” she shrugs, but moves out of his lap, to which he whimpers in response. “Only if you can best me out of five.” Marinette teases, picking up the consoles.

“Fine.” he says, taking his console. “But then I’d like to add more requests to our deal,” he grins.

She smiles back, and presses start. “Bring it on.”

And so, once again on a particular night, Adrien Agreste turns his eyes to watching the television — or at least he tries to, because all his mind could process is Marinette Dupain-Cheng settled on his lap. Because he realizes that the label _roommates-slash-best-friends-slash-superhero-partners_ clearly didn’t sound right, and it definitely wasn’t enough. Not when they’re being like _this._

Because they’re on the couch, she’s cuddling him, his heart’s racing, and they are dating.

And god, is he glad they are.

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this in celebration for hitting 1k for one of my fics! to which that fic is actually the prequel to this. 
> 
> this still works as a standalone of course. but it sure is fun when it turns out other stories are just from the same universe


End file.
